Chronicles of the Luscious

Another day has passed, and I'm, again, awake at an ungodly hour. Trust me, this was not due to a lack of activity.

I woke up at the crack of dawn (and by crack of dawn, I mean 9:25) and decided that it was high time to do laundry. The laundromat is always crowded. Always. I thought going during the week would give me a break, but alas, I was wrong. It was more crowded than ever. Despite that, I was still able to do a hellacious amount of laundry in less than 3.5 hours. No small feat, trust me. I won't say that my issues with the laundry mat are plentiful, but they do exist.

I am probably the only English speaking person that uses this facility. I am by no means one of those elitists who believe "yer in Amerrrikkka, speak Ainglish!" However, when people walk up to me and begin to speak in rapid fire Spanish, it makes me forget the few phrases that I know to convey to them that my Spanish is beyond piss poor. For some reason, it kind of makes me feel like a douche. On the upside, going to this place is impelling me to learn the language, because telenovellas look like they are the BOMB. I don't know what they are saying on "El Diablos y los Guapos," but it looks like the shit and I want to be a part of it. (Side note: Does the Latino community view Univision the way we look at BET. I've seen some activity on that channel that looks like flagrant coonito-ism. I'm just saying.)

My kids are far too sociable, and they always befriend some random miscreant in the making that works my nerves. One kid almost got the taste smacked out of his mouth today, and though he was a tester, he was not crazy and he saw his future. I am really not the one for kids that like to test adults. I make it known to all children: I do not test well, but I'm in the 99th percentile in juvenile beatdowns. I will not hesitate to bust open a can of whip ass on the kids I brought into the world. Do you really think I'd second guess putting one of those Big Show chest slaps on a three-year-old that I've never met who happens to be tap dancing on my last nerve? Sheeeeeee...

I have somehow become the damned pied piper of the laundry mat. Small kids have always liked me, so I guess that means I am a fairly decent person. Aren't they like puppies where they're supposed to be a good judge of character and predict earthquakes and shit like that? Plus, everybody loves the big titty girl. I swear, babies start drooling when I round the corner. I almost feel bad when they discover that these are only display models. In addition to the kids, ever since I've gone natural with my hair, parents have become all loosey goosey in leaving their kids unattended around me for long periods of time. I guess I look like a nanny earth mother or something. Two problems here: 1) this is dangerous as all hell, and 2) I don't want to be saddled down with your damned kids!

Today, this dude and his girl came in to do laundry with a small baby. By small, I mean she was *this far* from me wondering why she had the baby out in the streets. The kid was so small, it still had that unisex look, and could not hold a bottle. Two months MAX. Anyway, son strolls in, plops his baby on the counter RIGHT next to where I'm folding clothes, walks off. On top of that, he goes about his business for at LEAST twenty minutes before he looks back. The trifling bitch he was with NEVER looked back. What in the blue hell? I'm telling you, if this shit doesn't stop, I'm getting a perm and a breast reduction. I really need a personal assistant to handle these things.